


You Know What They Say

by methylviolet10b



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: ACD Canon References, Angsty Schmoop, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2012-09-21
Packaged: 2017-11-14 17:42:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes protests a superstition on more than one grounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Know What They Say

**Author's Note:**

> Utterly pointless schmoopy fluff. This is probably set sometime before the events of the first movie. If you didn't like the movie or its characterizations, you probably won't like this. 
> 
> Written in response to the following prompt: Superstition (lack thereof, consequences thereof, or whatever perks your muse)

Watson pulled back the stethoscope from Holmes’ chest and carefully covered him back up with the light blanket.

“Well, Doctor, will I live?” Holmes’ voice was weak, but full of irony.

“For now, yes. And you’ll continue to do so, and more healthily too, if you will only do what I say.”

Holmes scowled, but the expression had only a fraction of its usual vigor, and looked completely unconvincing when taken in with his extreme pallor and utterly limp posture on the settee. “You make too much of a trifle.”

Blue eyes flashed in indignation. “You fainted away from pure inanition! How, pray tell, is that a _trifle_? You’re fortunate that Giddons did not put up any kind of fight, for if he had, you would have collapsed then and there, and not after Gregson and his men took him away.” Watson’s lips tightened with worry, but his voice softened as he solicitously wiped away some of the clammy sweat from Holmes’ forehead. “Honestly, Holmes. Your eating habits are atrocious. You simply must take better care of yourself.”

Holmes shifted irritably. “I have told you, I cannot eat while I am on a case. I must focus my blood and energy in my brain.”

“You can eat lightly,” Watson argued. “And you can make sure that what you _do_ eat is more nutritious than tea, cigarettes, and sugar biscuits. You must consume some meat, and some vegetables or fruit, even while working.” He gave Holmes a half-smile. “You know what they say, Holmes. ‘An apple a day keeps the doctor away.’”

“Pure poppycock superstition,” Holmes snapped, his voice a little stronger than before.

“A gross oversimplification,” Watson corrected, “but with some truth at the core. A healthier diet will help keep you healthier, keep other such events from occurring.”

“I still say it’s nonsense,” Holmes grumbled. Then his eyes softened a trifle. “And even if it weren’t, my dear fellow – why on earth would I ever want that?”

Watson’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why would you ever want to keep from fainting from hunger, from running yourself down to the point of collapse?”

“No.” A little color returned to Holmes’ face. “Why would I want to keep you away?”

Silence, and then an embarrassed harrumph filled the room. “Now I _know_ you’re not yet recovered,” the doctor mumbled. One broad hand tangled with Holmes’ lean, pale one, and gripped firmly, even as he reached his other for the cup of beef broth on the side table. “Dear chap. You need never worry about that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted July 13, 2011


End file.
